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The highlight of the last season of Curb Your Enthusiasm was an episode called “Palestinian Chicken”. An Arab restaurant, Al Abbas, opens up opposite Goldblatt’s Delicatessen, prompting confrontation and protests. But Larry and Jeff are so blown away by the food they don’t care. “I know we have our problems with these people, but man oh man, do they know what they’re doing, chicken-wise,” says Larry, digging in.

Everyone who goes to Israel and has no religious reason to eat kosher soon realises it is not the tastiest food on offer. Whereas Palestinian chicken, marinated and spiced up with zata’ar and sumac, is a wonderful dish — check out Ottolenghi’s recipe.

Restaurant 1701 (the date this handsome synagogue, Britain’s oldest, was built) claims to be “London’s first fine dining experience celebrating the world of Jewish cuisine”. Though the place is effectively a lean-to against the wall of the synagogue, it’s been modishly designed and feels luxurious.

The aim here is to serve strictly kosher food with some of the panache of Ottolenghi, ranging around the whole world of Jewish food in a few well-chosen dishes.

From the starters, which include chopped liver and “Jewish Penicillin” (chicken soup), we tried the gefilte fish (£10.95). Three little mounds of a cold mousse made from wild sea bass with a horseradish flavoured beetroot purée, carrots and aspic had obviously been precisely prepared and served but it’s an intrinsically dull, even penitential plateful for people otherwise nervous of fish. Likewise p’tcha (£10.95) — a little oblong of translucent calf’s foot jelly terrine on top of some shreds of meat, accompanied by pickled onions, apple and balls of quail egg — couldn’t be faulted but was bland.

From the mains, Friday Night Dinner (£21.50) was very carefully cooked breast of chicken with accompanying sweet potato, shallots and baby fennel — but the bird itself, presumably as a result of having been bled and salted, was pale and lacking in flavour. Palau Kabuli (£28.95), an adaptation of an Afghan-Jewish recipe, was more rewarding — a nicely pink piece of fried duck breast with some little cubes of confit duck leg around it, on top of a risotto flavoured with nettle and given crunch by some wild rice puffed up into the equivalent of popcorn.

Puddings, obviously shunning dairy, were underwhelming also. Sachertorte (£8.95) was a singularly dry chocolate cake. Frucht zup (£8.95) was an altered fruit salad with a strawberry and pepper consommé, compressed melon, and seeds of blackberry and pomegranate, again not much of a thrill.

The wine list, offering many bottles that are not just kosher but mevushal (boiled, or these days flash-pasteurised, so they remain kosher even if served by non-Jews) is notably expensive.

So all these dishes, served in small quantities, artfully arranged on the plate, were refined and accomplished — but unless you need to eat kosher, or go to a restaurant with somebody who does, Restaurant 1701 just isn’t a sensible option. It could even have you pining for a little Palestinian chicken.